Talking Bird
by Twistedsystem009
Summary: Eliana does not remember the early years of her life, nor does she remember her father. She has lived with her aunt and uncle, or so they call themselves, since she was but five summers. They say her father gave her to them while he traveled, and told her wild stories of him being a gambler and a disgrace to the family. Now, she has set herself free - free from them, at least...
1. Chapter 1 Contract

The sky above Bruma was painted with a million stars. It was not snowing this night as it had been nonstop for days before, and the wind was blowing in cold, bitter gusts. On one of the wealthiest streets, a two-story house stood, nearly indistinguishable from the shadows surrounding it. Only one light flickering in its windows.

Lucien Lachance crept along the city's walls, shrouded completely in darkness. He climbed up the wooden trellis and lept onto the balcony with ease, never making a sound. The door st00d slightly ajar, spilling candlelight into the night like blood soaking a letter written in black ink.

Inside, the room was desolate, save for a chair in the exact center. In it was an old man with yellowed teeth and a long, patchy beard. At his bare feet was a single guttering glim. He awoke with a start as Lucien spoke.

"You have called upon the Brotherhood." The man leered at the Imperial with beady ice-blue eyes. He straightened up slightly, but remained silent. After it seemed he was fully awake and listening, Lucien continued, "What would you ask of us?"

"Outside of Chorrol," the old Nord began in a deep, raspy voice. He paused to take a long breath, then started again, "there is a Redguard man and his daughter. He thinks to teach children - _Nord_ children - of his vile ways.

"In two day's time, the Redguards will be celebrating their precious Ovanshka, or whatever they call it." the Nord said with contempt. "You must kill him then, and with this poison only." He uncorked a small green vile whose contents smelled like springtime. "And do not kill the child. My daughter and her husband await her arrival in the Imperial City. My darling cannot bare children of her own, and the girl is not much older than five summers. She is still innocent enough."

Lucien frowned beneath his hood, but it went unseen. He moved forward, taking the bottle from the man's wasted hands and slipping it into an inside pocket of his robes. As he raised his hand to cast a Chameleon spell, he said,

"Sithis has heard your prayer."


	2. Chapter 2 The Night of Ovank'a

Today, the twelfth of Morning Star, was the celebration of Ovank'a. Though Eliana was but a child, she understood how important this holiday was to her father. He had told her that her mother, who had died after giving birth to Eliana, though she did not know that, enjoyed the celebration more than the Day of Lights.

Now, the little girl sat up in bed, watching the curtains of her balcony billow in the warm breeze. Her father had told her how he built this house himself when he and her mother traveled from their homeland to Cyrodiil.

Downstairs, a soft _click_ resounded throughout the house. Eliana payed it no mind, and her father was slumbering too deeply to notice. No one saw the cloaked figure slip inside and creep down the corridor, opening the door on the opposite wall...

There was no sound, no cry of pain, or last, rattling breath, as the assassin slit the sleeping Redguard's throat. The blood gushed from the gaping slit in his neck and seeped into the sheets, dripping onto the floor.

When the stranger had climbed up the stairs, the little girl was still sitting upright in her single bed. She looked around as he entered, topaz eyes widening in fear at the sight of him. His dagger, which he had wiped free of blood, was hidden beneath his robes, but he was still just as intimidating. He took a few steps forward, never speaking a word, and the child continued to back away, terrified.

"I will not harm you."

The words were not exactly reassuring, but it made no difference to Eliana either way. She did not try to run, however, and remained still and silent, as if obeying an unspoken order. The young man smiled as warmly as he could, albeit it was not very convincing. The child did not seem to notice, and inched forward.

"Good," said the assassin, outstretching a pale hand. Eliana took it and allowed him to lead her down the staircase, past the hall, at the end of which her father's door stood wide open. She glanced over her shoulder at it, calling out, "Papa?"

"Shh, child. Your father is sleeping." the stranger said, removing his hand from the front door's knob and kneeling before the child. "Your aunt and uncle have sent for you from the Imperial City." The little girl's eyes widened once more, but this time it was in excitement. She began to bounce, asking in a loud whisper, "I've never seen them before. What are they like? Do you know them?"

Now, the pair was strolling casually down the stone pathway that led up to the elaborate three-story house. At the end of it, a mare with glowing crimson eyes stood tall and black as midnight. She tossed her silky mane as they approached, nuzzling her master's hand. Eliana stared up at her in awe, and the creature sniffed her head, then snorted, seemingly satisfied.

"No, I'm afraid I've never met them." the stranger answered honestly. He hoisted the child onto the back of his horse and climbed on after. She continued to ask questions, to only some of which the young man had answers to. Finally, she fell asleep.

She would never see her father again.


	3. Chapter 3 Finality

Eliana did not remember the day she arrived in the Imperial City, nor did she remember where she went wrong.

The young woman sat on a low garden wall on the opposite side of town from her aunt and uncle's house. She stretched out her legs, watching as the shadows slid over them and the clouds moving across the sky made them flicker. As she threw her head back, light caught her face, and tear tracks could be seen glistening on her cheeks.

Perhaps Eliana's aunt and uncle had been nice to her when she was a child. Or perhaps they had always been this cruel. Either way, she had done nothing to them besides exist. She strived to be quiet, avoiding as much interaction with them as possible. Sometimes, Eliana would stay locked in her room for days, only exiting the house through the window. She would skip lightly across the sorry excuse for a garden and return at nightfall, having done nothing except sit beneath the bridge at the gates and hear traders converse with guards, free to come and go whenever they pleased.

Now, the sun was setting. Crimson was bleeding into the pale sky, sinking into the waters of the unseen Lake Rumare behind the large, ominous stone walls of Cyrodiil City. Eliana walked as slowly as she could back to her aunt and uncle's house, taking the longest roads and not bothering to skirt the market crowd. When she reached the well-kept building so similar to the ones surrounding it on its quiet street, she tried the window latch, but it was locked. Eliana stood with her hands on the warm bricks for a few moments, then made her way to the front of the house and rapped thrice on the door.

"What?"

Her aunt's voice sounded like a bird's squawk as the bolt was slid aside and she flung open the door. She was a woman with a face made of all harsh lines, and bright green eyes that might have seemed warm and compassionate if not for the hatred simmering below their surface. Without a change in the scowl she wore, Eliana's aunt wound one of Eliana's dark curls tightly around her fingers and dragged the young woman inside, thrusting her into the room that she had kept for eighteen years. She left, then, without another word. Eliana pushed off of the floor and brushed dirt from her dress. She turned the latch onto the window, leaving it unlocked for tomorrow. Then, the Redguard moved to the small desk in the corner, retrieving from the one drawer an object wrapped in cloth.

For at least an hour or a half, Eliana simply stared at the package, unblinking. It was pitch-black outside, a moonless night, before she finally moved. Inside of the indigo cloth was a thin, elegant dagger with a gleaming blade. Eliana had had it for years, although she knew not whom had given it to her. She had only taken it out of its wrappings once. Since then, she had taken it out to admire the now faded fabric every night and contemplate her deepest, darkest desires.

The young woman moved swiftly and silently down the narrow corridor to her aunt and uncle's bedroom. They were sleeping, her uncle snoring and her aunt with her back turned to him. A waxy candle stub sat on the nightstand, but it was not lit. The room was in complete darkness.

Regardless, Eliana had no trouble finding the subtle rise and fall of her guardian's chests to embed her blade beneath their ribcage and cease the beating of their hearts. When they both lie dead, everything was oddly still and silent. Eliana did not move for quite some time, her dagger dripping vermillion onto the floorboards. It stood out in the sliver of moonlight that had begun to break the clouds.

Then, Eliana was running. She had the dagger in her hand still, and the fabric in the other. The hem of her gown was wet and heavy with blood, but it did not slow her down a bit. She looked like a vision, sprinting faster than a racing horse across the road that rose above the lake. If one were to blink and see her disappear behind the trees, they would have thought they were going mad.

When Eliana stopped, it was in a glade lit solely by the stars. She tripped over a gnarled tree root, catching herself with her hands. As she tried to take a deep breath, she coughed and inhaled the dirt. Then, too weak to move, she lay her cheek on the cool ground and drifted off into a dreamless sleep.


	4. Chapter 4 He Came in the Night

It was early in the morning and still dark when Lucien had finally tracked down his recruit, with the help of a fisherman and a pirate. She was a Redguard, what with the lean figure, dark skin, and thick curls. There were several tattoos of flowers and suns on her arms and calves, and many piercings in her ears. She wore a loose, flowing gown of sheer, peachy fabric. The train was stained and stiff with dried blood.

"You sleep rather soundly for a murderer." The young woman stirred, bringing a hand to her face. Her topaz eyes, which seemed to glow life a wolf's in the darkness, found the shadowy figure standing across from her. She bolted upright, groping in the soft dirt for the blade she had abandoned as she slumbered. Her lips were parted slightly, but it did not look as if she was going to speak, so Lucien continued,

"You prefer silence, then? As do I, my dear child. As do I. For is silence not the symphony of death, the orchestration of Sithis himself? Ironic, then, that I come to you now as Speaker for the Dark Brotherhood.

"My name is Lucien Lachance, and my voice is the will of the Night Mother. She's been watching you. Observing as you kill, admiring as you end life without pity or remorse. The Night Mother is most pleased. That is why I stand here before you. I bear an offering.

"An opportunity... to join our rather unique family..."

The Redguard, still in shock, remained silent. "So, I have your rapt attention. Splendid. Now listen closely."

"On the Green Road to the north of Bravil lies the Inn of Ill Omen. There you will find a man named Rufio. Kill him, and your initiation into the Dark Brotherhood will be complete.

"Do this, and the next time you sleep in a location I deem secure, I will reveal myself once more, bearing the love of your new family."

Now, the young woman took a shaky breath and licked her wind chapped lips. The blade lay in the dirt beneath her hand, whose grip had fallen limp. "I'll do as you say." she said, her voice slightly hoarse. Lucien's lips curved into a smile that was not at all warm or compassionate.

"Sithis guide you, child."

And with that, he departed.


	5. Chapter 5 The Signing of a Covenant

_What is it like to die in your sleep?_

Eliana paused at the old man's bedside, hand on the hilt of her dagger. She observed him for a moment, with the candle flame catching all of the lines on his wasted face. One might have thought him already dead, if not for the subtle rise and fall of his chest.

Then, swiftly and without hesitation, Eliana slit his throat. His muscles relaxed, and his lips parted slightly. He was no longer breathing. Eliana blew out the glim on the nightstand and pressed her hand to his forehead, murmuring,

"Gods bless you."

Eliana left the small roadside tavern, with the embers glowing in the fireplace and the bartender slumped in his seat. She traveled to Bravil, which did not take long at all, and paid for a room at the Lonely Suitor Inn. Though the sheets were uncomfortable and the pillows had feathers poking out of them, it took no time for her to drift into a restless sleep.

* * *

><p>"So, the deed is done. How do I know this? You will find that the Dark Brotherhood knows a great many things. For you are now part of the family."<p>

The wind whistled through the small, circular window, which refused to shut, through which the twin moons could be seen in the velvety night sky. This is what Eliana saw when she awoke. As soon as her eyes had focused, she sat up, not taking any time to praise Ruptga for the stars.

Lucien Lachance stood not too far away from the edge of the bed, hands clasped behind his back and a smirk on his lips, which were all that could be seen beneath his hood. Eliana fixed her gaze on where his eyes should have been, but instead there was only shadow.

"Now heed these words."

"The slaying of Rufio was the signing of a covenant. The manner of execution, your signature. Rufio's blood, the ink. As a Speaker of the Black Hand, I directly oversee a particular group of family members. You will join that group, and fulfill any contracts given.

"You must now go to the city of Cheydinhal, to the abandoned house near the eastern wall. Enter the basement, and attempt to open the black door. You will be asked a question. Answer thusly: 'Sanguine, my Brother.'

"Once inside, speak with Ocheeva. We must now take our leave of each other, you and I, for there is much work to be done. I'll be following... your progress."

Eliana's eyes narrowed. Lachance's smirk grew wider and colder. The way that he spoke made it sound as if he would be following more than just her 'progress.' Lucien seemed completely aware of the fact, but raised his hand before Eliana could speak. Then, he was gone. The door opened slowly, filling the corridor with a quiet creaking as it did so. A disembodied voice spoke from nearby, and Eliana could feel a pair of eyes lock onto hers.

"Welcome to the family."


	6. Chapter 6 Welcome Home

"Dammit... we barely have enough to buy a bottle of cheap ale!"

"Keep your voice down! Don't want the captain hearin' ya, or your head'll be on a pike faster than you can pray to Talos..."

Between a stack of crates, Eliana could just see two men sitting at a small wooden table, emptying coin purses and counting them. In between them, there was a ledger. One of the pirates picked up a handful of septims, pocketing them and saying, "Ah, 'e won't miss these, will 'e?"

Swiftly and silently, Eliana crept out from her hiding place and slit one of the men's throats. The other bandit stood, drawing his blade. Eliana twirled out of reach, disarming him and shoving her blade into his chest. Their eyes locked, and she saw them glaze over, wide with the dawning realization, saw the life drain from them...

Eliana hastily yanked her dagger from the man's flesh. He fell to the ground with a thud, head lolling to the side so that he was gazing sightlessly at the wall.

The captain wouldn't have proved a threat if he hadn't called for help. He went down fairly easily. All it took was a graceful pirouette and swish and flick on Eliana's part. By the time the pirates were rushing down the hall, she had already wrenched open the door to the balcony and closed it behind her.

Briny ocean air filled Eliana's nostrils as she stepped outside. It felt so good to_ breathe_ after being shut up in that boat. It had barely been five minutes before she felt like she was suffocating on stale mead and sweat mingled with steel.

Now, Eliana stood with her hands on the wooden railing, legs bent as if she had been caught mid step. There were footsteps and voices inside as the pirates discovered their captain's dead body. Eliana hesitated, wondering if the water would be cold, and if she should go back in and kill the men.

No, she couldn't take them all on at once. Even though they were muffled, Eliana could clearly make out five voices coming from behind the door. With a deep breath, she swung her legs over the edge of the balcony and plunged straight into the blue-grey depths below.

The water wasn't as icy as Eliana imagined, but it definitely wasn't warm. She broke the surface, gasping for breath and blinking water out of her eyes. Then, fighting against the leather pulling her down, Eliana swam to the shore. With heavy limbs and a sore throat from choking on water and struggling for breath, Eliana clawed her way up the shore. She lay there for a moment, regaining her composure, before rising rather ungracefully to her feet.

It took a day for Eliana to return to Cheydinhal. It was nightfall when she arrived at the gates, and a cool spring breeze was whispering along the paved roads, right past the abandoned house standing out with its dirtied bricks amidst the spotless city.

All of the windows were boarded up, and ivy and soft green moss had begun to climb the walls. The door hung on broken, rusty hinges. Inside, the floorboards had rotted and the fireplace lay cold, stained with soot. Shards of brightly painted pottery were all that remained of the previous owners.

In the basement, down a crumbling set of stairs, there was a gaping hole in the wall. It was in complete darkness, save for a faint red glow at the end that could be taken for tricks of the eye. It was not, however, light playing with shadow. At the end of the tunnel, there was a door. Carved into it were scenes depicting dark brothers and sisters kneeling before their mother, and above that was the infamous handprint of the Dark Brotherhood. As Eliana opened the door, a raspy, ethereal voice whispered in her ear,

"_Welcome... home._"


End file.
